


A Scaled Day

by MKnightium



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Fantastic Racism, Lizardfolk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:41:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24425197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MKnightium/pseuds/MKnightium
Summary: A glimpse in the life of a lizardfolk adventurer and the things he goes through.
Kudos: 2





	A Scaled Day

His eyes slowly parted as he felt the rays of sunlight fall upon him.

Lifting his head, he looked out the window to confirm that it was morning; it was time to get up.

Today was another day, after all.

Rolling out of bed, he stretched and popped his joints as he walked to the bathroom, pushing the door open and approaching the mirror. He blinked a few times to get the sleep out of his eyes, leaning forward to inspect himself in the mirror.

Like all lizardmen, he was a tall, bipedal reptile. His scales were a dull green color and his shoulders broad. He had lean muscles and a long tail that tapped the ground. His legs were what the humans called digitigrade; the shins caved in to form joints as his clawed toes tapped the ground. He stood with a hunch, like most of his kind, and his eyes were an oak brown color. His head was situated on a long neck and was crocodilian in shape, with a large underbite and a few, thin quills along the back of his head; something that was a staple of all male lizardmen.

His clawed fingers trailed over the long pink scar across his shoulder. Seemed that wound didn’t heal properly like he thought it would. Hopefully, his armor concealed it.

Patting the scar, he turned away from the mirror and sauntered out of the bathroom, moving to his messy pile of gear in the corner. It took little time to don and put things on; the lizardman now clad in a yellow bone breastplate, hide loincloth, and even a set of bone vambraces, the reptile taking up his jawbone club, sliding his bone carving knife into its sheath on his thigh, and strapping his turtle shell shield onto his arm before stepping out the tavern room and down the hall, nostrils flaring as he caught the myriad of scents that emanated from the end of the hall. He hastened his pace a bit, reaching the corridor and stepping out into the tavern’s common area.

It was as vivid as he remembered. Men and women sat around the wooden tables, drinking from their strange wooden cups, and yelling to one another, even laughing too. He never understood laughter, aside from it apparently being used to voice amusement at something, or as a form of relief.

Perhaps the latter.

Still, he started to walk, keeping his tail as out of the way as he could as he walked, though he could quickly hear the room’s atmosphere change as much of the conversations died down. He looked about and saw eyes were on him; some of the humans were murmuring now whereas some simply stared, though he couldn’t tell the intent behind such stares.

At least until one bared his teeth in the form of a frown; a gesture he learned meant displeasure and even malice.

“Oi, Garux! Over here!” That voice made him perk up, the lizardman hurrying his pace to a table situated in the corner. His anxiousness was replaced with relief when he saw the few humans he knew well enough in this strange place; his “party” as they called it.

“Good to see you’re awake, friend,” The first of them was a lanky man dressed in black leather armor and with a hood pulled up over his head. Garux remembered that he called himself Ivac, and that he was something called a “rogue”; adventurers who relied on stealth and silence to hunt their prey. It was why Garux respected him; a good hunter is never found, after all. “You want some breakfast? I think Belinda’s about ready to close our tab, so I wanna make sure you eat.” Garux nodded and the rouge darted off, the lizardman sitting down on one of the wooden stools. Of course, he had to keep his weight on his legs; the strange seats were rather frail.

“So, did you sleep well, Garux?” The next human in the party spoke; a woman donned in white, regal robes and with a soft, rounded face. Her hair was a gold color and she had a fruity, rich scent to her; Garux remembering this human as Hevela. She was a cleric; an adventurer who healed and mended others, reminding him much of the shamans back home, though she lacked their practicality, and she lacked their colorful plumage and potions, just healing spells. Still, she healed him when he got hurt, and thus he wanted to protect her.

“The sleep was good.” He spoke, still doing what he could to properly word things in Common Tongue. “I feel well-rested.” She grinned; a gesture that always confused him, but he learned recently it meant happiness. Human gestures were so…confusing. He normally read emotions and gestures from body language and even the wagging of one’s tail, but humans tended to convey how they felt with their faces, unfortunately.

“Good, cause we’ll need ya today.” The final member of the party spoke, a burly man dressed only in a fur loincloth and boots. His hair was black and messy with a more pungent odor coming from him, the man bulkier and more muscular than the other humans and riddled with more scars. His name was harder to remember; Garux thought it was Julric, but he couldn’t remember for certain, and he learned it was rude to ask for a human’s name if they already spoke it once. He never understood that; some names were hard to remember the first time. “We’re supposed to be takin’ out an orc ‘n his goons. Simple stuff, really.” The rugged human also spoke with an accent of some sort. Sometimes it was easy to comprehend, and other times Garux completely missed some words.

“Orcs smell foul.” Garux spoke, tail flicking behind him. Hevela and Julric stared at him, the lizardman growing wary about what he said.

“Hah! They sure do!” The big man chuckled and Hevela concealed her own laughter behind her hand. Garux wanted to smile at such a thing, but he learned his own smiles were…ill-received by humans, because of his teeth.

“Oi, big guy, eat up!” He leaned back when a metal platter was dropped onto the table. The smell of roasted meat made his maw water, eyes darting down to the platter of meat the rogue brought. Steam wafted up from the diced boar meat, Garux snatching a piece up and downing it, ignoring the heat as he devoured it. It tasted as divine as it always did; spiced and salted to absolute perfection! And the texture? It was soft, juicy, and packed with that rich flavor; it only added to the quality, making the meat one of the absolute highlights of his time as an adventurer!

“Well, seems you were famished, apparently.” Garux’s eyes darted up to Ivac, then to the platter, his eyes widening as he realized it was empty; he had eaten all the meat in less than a moment! “A…are you good?”

“I believe I am good, yes.” He smacked his jaws a bit. “I still hunger, though.”

“Um…that was a metaphor.”

“Oh.” He still had much to learn about Common, apparently. “I would like more meat, though.”

“I gotcha. I’ll see what I can do.” Ivac sauntered off again and Garux pulled his jawbone club up, beginning to look over and work on it.

Today was another day.

~

He tightened the bindings on his club once more, doing what he could to keep himself busy as he sat on the bench. He was outside the place humans called a General Store, somewhere filled with items and goods for a wide array of purposes. He always wanted to know what was inside of it, but every time he was asked to stay outside. Hevela always told him it was because the shop could only hold so many people but Garux knew the truth.

He was afraid of him.

“Ooo! Look, mum! It’s a monster!” He looked up to see a child walking with his mother, the woman shushing her son and trying to hasten her pace. “Can we see the monster, mom?”

“Hush! They’re dangerous; don’t go near that _thing_ , understand?” Garux narrowed his eyes at that but did nothing except continue to work on his club. Their footsteps drifted away, though he soon heard more people moving, looking up now to see another party of adventurers.

“Ugh, who left their _pet_ outside?” One of them obnoxiously spat. Garux’s eyes narrowed again, tail whipping at the ground as his hands tightened up. The other adventurers began to laugh at this, the lizardman digging his fingers into the club as they quieted down. “I’m not even sure why they let monsters become adventurers. Just makes it harder to do our jobs and get rid of these damn things.” The lead adventurer started to approach, Garux ceasing his work on his club entirely as the man stood a few feet away. “Why don’t you crawl back to your swamp where you belong, lizard?”

“Because I walk. I do not crawl.” He recognized the idiom that time, and intentionally chose to disregard it this time. This made the adventurer scowl.

“Tch, are you getting smart with me, lizard?”

This time, he didn’t really know how to approach the man’s words. He did know what to do when the man raised a fist, Garux letting out a low, warning growl to send the adventurer scrambling back to his friends like a rat to a cave.

“D-Damn thing growled at me!”

“For one, he’s not a thing,” Ivac’s voice was a welcome relief; the rouge stepping out the store, along with the others. “And second, sod off, Dunwich. Leave him alone.”

“Hmph.” He looked displeased, but the fool and his cohorts walked away regardless.

“Did he try anything, Garux?” He looked up at Hevela, the cleric’s voice telling him she was hurt, or rather, worried.

“No. He threatened me and backed off when Ivac stepped out.” He didn’t want to mention the part of him growling.

“As long as he didn’t try to hurt you.” She spoke, Hevela stepping away and making room for Julric to step out, the rugged man walking with an armful of various goods. “Ivac, can you go get us a wagon so we can get moving to that barrow?”

“Sure sure; am I allowed to haggle?” Hevela frowned. Garux learned it was different from baring teeth. It simply meant displeasure. “Sorry, couldn’t resist.”

“Just don’t get in trouble.” The rogue darted off with the rugged man in tow, Garux watching Hevela seat herself next to him on the bench, the lizardman going back to his fiddling. “…what’s that made out of, anyhow?”

“It came from a great beast back home. My brother and I killed it, and so we each made a club from its maw.”

“Huh, that’s quite poetic. And the shield?”

“The shell of a Swamp Turtle I hunted and ate. Durable and tough, and these,” He tapped the bone spikes along the rim of the shield. “help to better defend me from foes.”

“I see…and…another thing. Are you okay?” Garux looked down at her.

“I am okay.” She was still frowning. Did he give the wrong answer?

“I’m asking about this,” She tapped his scarred shoulder. The memories returned and he felt a mixture of scorn and fear. “I don’t want to assume, but most wouldn’t be okay after that.”

“…it will not happen more than once.” He had many words for such a thing; almost a thousand, but whenever he felt strongly about something, it became harder to speak about it in Common. “I learned from the last encounter. They will not hurt me again.”

“Just…be careful, okay? Sure, we’ve only known one another for a week but…I don’t want anything to happen to you, especially if I can help it.”

“Nothing will.” Nothing bad would happen if one didn’t let it; a lesson a shaman taught him years ago when he was a youngling. And he applied it to every day as best he could. The cleric fell silent after his words and he resumed fiddling with his club. His mind was still a bit…distraught, the lizardman’s eyes drifting upwards as he let out a low snarl of a sigh.

Today was another day.

~

He looked up when he felt the wooden wagon come to a stop. Gazing upwards from his club, he saw the humans were already stepping down from the wagon, Garux taking up his shield and doing the same.

The new area was one that brought him comfort; a dense, mighty forest. The trees were tall, and their leaves blocked much of the sunlight. He could smell a myriad of scents. He could only identify a few: grazing deer, small birds, flowers in a babbling brook. Much of it was unknown to him and that only served to entice him further. It was peaceful, and even comforting, for it reminded him of his village, though with less beasts about. 

“Garux? Are you okay?” He pulled himself from his analysis and looked down to Hevela.

“This place reminds me of home, though it is quieter. And drier.”

“Oh, well that’s good. But we should probably focus. The camp should be close, and it’d be bad if we got caught off guard.” He nodded and kept his club at the ready, nostrils flaring as he tried to pick apart the smells in the air, though to no avail.

At least until they crossed a small stream. Then he picked up a sharp, pungent stench. One that was like Julric, but it smelled far more…savage. Foul, being a better word.

That was the stench of an orc. They weren’t far.

“We are close.” Garux hastened his pace, tail slapping at the ground, excitement coursing through him before the lizardman motioned for everyone to stop. His nostrils continued to flare, inhaling rapidly, Garux pointing with his club to a large cluster of bushes that he dove into a second later, inching forward and peering through the leaves.

His nose guided him well once again; they found the camp. It was as rudimentary as he expected, with tents pitched from hide and various barrels and crates of stolen goods stacked by one of the larger tents that, no doubt, belonged to the leader of the little group. Walking about said camp were goblins and a few hobgoblins. The goblins looked like all their cave-dwelling kind did: short, green-skinned creatures with big, yellow eyes and long, floppy ears. Their armor was mere burlap loincloths; enough to cover their loins but nothing further.

The hobgoblins looked the same, except for having darker green skin and were taller as well. They were also donned in brown hide armor and armed with iron swords; they were tougher foes, but still prey.

“So, these are the guys?” He looked over at Ivac, the rogue already drawing his iron dagger. “How’re we doin’ this?”

“Wait.” Garux grunted, tail curling up as he watched a goblin slowly approach. The moment the small monster was close enough his tail shot out like an angry swamp viper, coiling around his leg and dragging the goblin into the bushes, where a single blow to the head was enough to silence him before he could let out a scream. With the task done, Garux pulled the body with him and crawled out the bushes, picking it up in his hand now and walking around the camp’s perimeter, the reptile making sure he was on the opposite end of the camp before dropping the goblin carcass and slashing it with his talons, opening fresh wounds as he circled around again, marking the trees with blood as he moved before he returned to the bushes with the others.

“Uh…Garux…what’d you do?”

“Bait.”

“Oh, was just askin’ cause they’re all running away.” True to Ivac’s words, the goblins were taking up arms and running in the direction he just came from; the smell of one of their slain was enough to make them angry, and thus they were moving to find the aggressors.

“Circle around and hunt them,” He crawled out from the bushes, club at the ready as he stared down the larger tent where his prey no doubt hid. “I will kill the orc.” Said orc stepped out from the tent, the tall, burly creature appearing no different from the humans he interacted with, save for having mucus green skin, sunken in eyes, and two large fangs jutting from his bottom jaw. The orc was dressed in fur pants and a single pauldron made from pelt as well, armed with a gristly ax as the green-skinned brute looked about.

He was confused. This was good.

Garux ran at the orc, watching his prey’s head turn just as his shield collided with the brute’s head, causing him to stumble back. The jawbone club struck the orc’s leg, forcing him to a knee as Garux smashed his shield into his head again. He gave his foe little chance to retaliate or fight back; no sane hunter would. In a matter of moments, the orc was on his back, Garux standing over him, bringing his club down once more to end the orc’s life.

“Huh…well…that was something.” He looked to Ivac; the human approaching and kneeling to examine the deceased orc. “Either this guy was weak or you’re stronger than you look, big guy.”

“I believe he was weak.” Ivac chuckled and stood up, backing away from the carcass.

“Always humble, apparently. Anyhow, we’re gonna go mop up the goblins. Are you gonna do your carving thing or…?”

“I am,” His club was set down, Garux pulling his bone knife out and dropping to a kneel. “I have not eaten orc before. I hope it will taste good.” Ivac had a look on his face he couldn’t recognize, but he said nothing more and walked away, Garux plunging his knife into the dead orc. There were so many uses for this foe: perhaps he could make some javelins to hurl at foes, or perhaps even use the bones to reinforce his breastplate. He had many options and that was what he treasured. Options were always good.

Today was a good day.

~

Garux sat on the bench once more, using his talons to gently whittle one of the newly made bone javelins and sharpen it. He used what he could from the orc and ate what couldn’t be used. The orc’s meat was…fatty; sweet, yes, but it paled in comparison to the braised boar the tavern served. But at least he made good use of his prey.

He felt something brush by his foot. Garux glanced down at a small, shaggy dog by his feet. The hound was small, most likely a pup, and its brown fur was caked in muck and grime. It looked up at him, head tilted to the side as he found himself mirroring the gesture, tongue sliding against his teeth.

Perhaps he could eat the dog. He always heard that they had succulent meat.

His hand moved and the dog took off running, Garux rising and watching it run down an alley between two stone buildings. He moved to follow it swiftly, hunger turning to curiosity as he wondered why the dog fled from him. Did it sense his intentions? Or did it simply wish to play? The book he read about them a few days ago said they were very playful creatures, so—

“ARF!” He stopped walking. Now the dog’s bark sounded pained, followed by whimpers from the creature. Garux started moving again, resting a hand on the stone of the alley’s exit as he peered into a small clearing. There were four teenagers standing over the dog, laughing to one another. The dog was curled up by a wall, whimpering and cowering at the sight of the humans, one wearing a coy grin as he approached the frightened dog.

“Stupid mutt! I say we throw the thing in the river!” one spoke with a grin.

“Yeah! It’s just a stray, anyways!” another chimed in. Garux heard all of this and his curiosity swiftly became anger. They planned to kill the dog for amusement. He was not going to allow that.

He let out a sharp, bellowing snarl, enough to get their attention as he took a step forward. They almost tripped over one another as they scrambled to flee from him, Garux giving another bellow for good measure before he approached the cowering pup. It looked up at him again, rising and approaching him as well, though now he saw the extent of their “fun”. One of the dog’s front legs was lifted as it walked; its leg was damaged and would require mending.

The dog was now at his feet, peering up at him as its tail wagged. He still had the instinct to eat it, yes, but now, he didn’t want to anymore, especially with how the pup acted towards him. In an odd way, it reminded him of himself. He knelt and reached a hand down to gently pat its head. The dog felt soft and warm. The pup pressed its head against his hand in a gesture that told him enough as he scooped the creature up with his other hand, carrying it with him. Its tail never stopped wagging as he walked back to the general store’s bench to await his party once more.

He would keep this dog for a while. Perhaps it could be useful, and besides, it depended on him for its survival, now, just like he did with Hevela and the others. So, he was going to protect it like he did them.

Today was an even better day.

~

“So…you gonna name your new pet?” Ivac’s question perplexed Garux, the lizardman devouring another platter of meat, though he spared some scraps for the dog that, currently, sat in his lap, its tail batting his bare stomach as the pup was clearly excited. The tavern was as lively as always, and while he could feel some stares, he wasn’t as bothered this time; he made a new friend and had more delicious boar. The pup’s leg was healed, thanks to Hevela’s magic, so now the little creature sat in his lap, eagerly eating any scraps he offered it.

While he’d normally be annoyed to be losing precious meat, this was different. The hound needed to grow to be big and strong, and so he could let it have some meat if that was what it took.

“I may,” Garux finally answered Ivac’s question. “but I do not know a fitting one.”

“Well, we can come up with ideas on the way.”

Garux was confused by that. “To what?”

“The menagerie; your dog will need a few things, Garux, like a bed and even some dedicated food. You can’t just keep feeding it table scraps.” He looked down at the pup who currently chewed on a piece of meat.

“It likes meat.” Hevela frowned.

“Let’s just see if they have kibble there.” Garux stood and carefully held the pup as he walked, leaving behind his shield and club for the moment so he could ensure the dog was safe in his hands as he followed behind Hevela. Stepping outside of the tavern, Garux feeling the chill air of the night nip at his hide. The violet sky was starless, and the moon hung alone in the sky. He knew sometimes the stars hid themselves, but such a thing still made Garux a bit sad.

“Garux?” He looked down at Hevela. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes.” He reached down to gently stroke the dog’s head, hearing the pup yawn and nestle against his scaled forearm. “The pup tires. I should rest after this as well. The next hunt awaits us.”

“Mhm. Tomorrow we’re supposed to be going to investigate an old fortress. It’s supposed to be abandoned but you know how these things go, right?” No doubt there would be goblins in there. He tired of goblin meat, but it was plentiful, and their bones made for good darts.

Hopefully, there was another orc leading them; he could turn its leg into a blowpipe.

He pulled himself from his joyful thoughts when Hevela came to a stop. The menagerie was another stone building, like all the others in the city, but the stench of beasts struck his nose when Hevela opened the door. “Now,” She held the door open with her foot, reaching her arms out. “can you hand me the dog? I need to show them it so they can tell me the gender and what they’d recommend.” Garux did as asked and set the still sleeping pup into her hands, the cleric delving into the strong-smelling place.

Idle once more, Garux slumped against a wall, sitting down, and looking over one of his vambraces. Maybe, one day, Hevela and the others would want to hunt on a coastline so he could hunt some shelled creatures and make armor from them. Bone was plentiful, yes, but it wasn’t effective against certain prey—

“There he is!” That rough voice caught his attention. He looked up to see a group of men approaching, armed with an assortment of weapons, including wooden clubs, iron-headed tools, and even a shortsword in the case of one. Their eyes were focused onto him, their teeth bared as they advanced towards him. Garux didn’t know why they were approaching him but, already, his tail was beginning to curl up anxiously as he started to stand up. “We had enough of you, lizard! Get the FUCK outta our city ‘fore we make you!”

“YEAH!” The others all agreed. Garux took a step back, hand reaching up to clamp down on his shoulder, palm tracing over the scar there.

“Hey! What’s going on?!” Hevela came rushing out of the menagerie, placing herself between the mob of angry men and Garux. “Why are you doing this?”

“Outta the way, monster-lover; this fucking _thing_ ’s gone too far,” One man spat. “He attacked my son and his friends, and now we’re gonna get rid of this thing, like the last mob should’ve.”

Garux’s hand tightened on his shoulder. “That is a lie.” Garux picked his words carefully. “He was attacking a dog. I scared them away from dog.”

“By swingin’ a damn spear at ‘em?!” Another shouted, readying his pitchfork. “And even then, so what? Mutts are all over the place! Who cares if some kids rough one or two up?”

“I do.” Garux growled himself, his fear melded with strife now. Hevela shook her head, keeping the pup tucked into her arms.

“Look, you don’t have to do this. This is sounding like a big misunderstanding.”

“The hell it is! This lizard ain’t got a place here, and he’s either gonna learn that, or we’re gonna get rid of him the hard way.” The apparent leader of the mob snarled, readying his wooden club. Garux’s instinct told him to flee, like he did last time, but last time Hevela wasn’t around. He couldn’t leave her to handle these enraged humans.

“We’re not doing either of those, okay? So, let’s just calm down and—”

**_CRACK!_ **

Garux’s eyes widened as Hevela fell back. The cleric landed on the ground, forehead oozing crimson ichor as the dog whimpered and cowered behind her prone form.

“Cletus?! Why’d you hit the bitch?!” One cried.

“She was in the way. Damn monster-lovers ain’t got a place eith—”

Garux stopped listening. His eyes were affixed to Hevela’s body. She was still alive, evident by her chest rising and falling, but she was unmoving. His breathe came out in ragged, rapid pants as his eyes narrowed. His tail slapped the ground frantically and he turned towards the leader, the man’s arm raised as he swung his club for Garux’s head.

The lizardman’s hand clamped around his wrist. The man’s anger turned to fear in a flash as Garux squeezed, hearing a wet snap fill the air as the man stumbled back, screaming and hollering, holding his arm. The lizardman advanced forward, planting himself over Hevela’s prone form as he dragged his claws across the stone ground. Now the angry mob was a terrified one, stumbling back all together to avoid Garux as he stooped down to pick up the discarded club, claws digging into it as he glared at the men.

“Run.” He growled. “RUUUUUUN!!!!” He roared it now, watching them scramble and shove one another over to flee from him, dropping their tools and weapons onto the ground as, in no time, the mob dissipated, and the night was once again quiet.

“What’s all the commotion—oh my…”

He looked over to the store across from the menagerie. The door was open as a robed, wrinkled woman stood in the doorway, a hand over her mouth and her eyes on him.

Him and the club in his hand.

“Please,” he said at last. None of this looked good for him, and to the untrained eye, it would even look like he attacked her himself, but he hoped and prayed that the old woman wouldn’t see it that way. “This is not how it—”

She raised a hand to cut him off. “It’s…it’s okay.” She sighed. “Just…bring her inside. I’ll heal her up.” Garux threw the club to the side and scooped Hevela up, doing the same for the pup. It was clearly frightened, yes, but its tail wagged all the same, as if it were keeping up a brave face.

That made two of them.

Today wasn’t a good day anymore.

~

“There, just let her rest.”

Garux sat in an uncomfortable wooden chair, adjacent to the bed Hevela rested in. Her forehead was bandaged up with just a bit of lifeblood soaked through. She was hurt, but she would live. The dog was also on the bed, almost as if it were trying to help as well, though Garux knew all it could do was wait.

His eyes were now on the wrinkled woman who set down a glass bottle filled with red liquid. “When she wakes up, I’ll have her drink this. Should take care of any lingering headaches.” Garux felt relief from that. Relief that, unfortunately, became sorrow.

“She was hurt because of me.” He shook his head. “The mob sought me. But the leader, the angriest one, struck her because she placed herself in the way. She tried to serve as a shield.”

“I see. Well,” The woman sat down in another wooden chair, resting her hands in her lap. “Care to enlighten me as to what happened, then? And, please, start from the beginning.”

And so, he did; Garux told her everything, about the teenagers he scared off, the mob’s approach, and even the mob who tried to kill him two days prior, unsuccessfully—an event that was ingrained into his memory now. By the time he finished, the woman’s lips were curled into a firm frown, a sigh leaving her.

“You’ve had quite a hard time, Garux,” she said. “I’ll do what I can to make sure that, if the guard do come looking for answers, your side’s heard unobstructed, because from the way it sounds, they were trying to kill you, and were hoping the law would take their side on account of them being humans, and you being…not so much.”

Garux nodded, eyes cast to the floor now. “Why do humans hate me so much?” That question had been in his head ever since he came to the city. Ever since the first man had shouted at him. Ever since the first mother had shielded her children from him.

The robed woman seemed caught off guard by such a question, her hands tightening as she sighed again. “Honestly, I don’t know. There may be a lot of reasons; sometimes we hate whatever we fear to discourage it from hurting us. Sometimes we hate what we don’t understand. And sometimes, we hate out of trauma. Monsters aren’t very popular, not even in these current, relatively peaceful days.

“Why?” Garux asked. “I am not like those before me.”

“I know; you demonstrated that by defending your friend, even at the risk of the guards naming you the aggressor. But I’m not really sure why some hold on to their hatred; maybe to discourage monsters from repeating the same atrocities, maybe for something else.” Garux furrowed his brow. “Garux, if I may ask, what drove you to become an adventurer?”

“Because I wanted to prove them wrong.”

The older woman raised a brow. “Prove who?”

“The village elders. They told me humans were cruel and hurtful; that they will never accept me, and yet,” His gaze was on Hevela once more. “she proved them wrong. She was the first to approach me and offer me companionship…she did not see me as a ‘monster’.”

The older woman nodded. “That’s good, then. Anyhow, for the time, it’d be wise for you to stay here for the night, just in case those men are looking for you. Tomorrow, I’ll walk with you to where you need to go, so, if the guards are out looking for you, we can give them the truth.”

Garux nodded and stood up, walking over to the corner of the room, and slumping down. His tail coiled around his waist, his eyelids growing heavy, as he let out a long yawn. Sleep was upon him, and while he fretted about tomorrow, he was optimistic at the same time, especially now because another human was on his side.

Today was a better day.


End file.
